


Bent Out Of Shape

by GMGT



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anne's kinda a pampered brat, Betrayal, Explosions, Gangs, Gen, I operate on spellcheck, I'm Bad At Tagging, Medival- but with super powers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please be nice, Revolution, Rhya was an accidental character, Serial Killers, Slavery, and spellcheck alone, but now, but she gets better, i guess, i think, idk why she exists, important, it’s a bunch of kids, no beta we die like men, one serial killer, or - Freeform, planning on a weekly updating schedule, she’s gonna be, singular, stealing food from a buffet, why no this mess was not edited at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24289777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GMGT/pseuds/GMGT
Summary: In a world where children receive their powers- called bents- at age ten, Annebeth Windwood has always known exactly what was to become of her.But now?Well.She certainly wasn't expecting this.
Relationships: Annebeth Windwood & Adela Windwood, Annebeth Windwood & Mr.Long, Ben & Anne Windwood, Jax & Anne Windwood, Rhya & Anne Windwood
Kudos: 1





	1. My Explosive Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> This should be a ride.

On a child’s tenth birthday, they may manifest a special power, or bent. That is to say, Five-sixths of children will. The other one-sixth are what are called bentless. Having no power, they are relegated to servitude of those more fortunate. Countless types of bents exist. They range from things like controlling the elements and healing, to telepathy and technopathy. 

Naturally, a child’s tenth birthday is a cherished event, to be celebrated among family. One such event was for Annebeth Windwood. Anne descended from a long line of healers, and had trained her whole life to pick up the torch. She would be ready. She hoped.

Anne could hardly stop herself from running down the hall towards the dining room. There would be a goblet there, with her name on it. The liquid had a bitter taste, she’d been told, but she could care less. The drink would unlock something( “Chi”, her teachers voice hovered at the back of her mind, long forgotten.) inside of her, allowing power to flow through her.

All she had to do was grasp what was her’s, and hold tight. She stopped in front of the door, feeling breathless. The door turned swiftly on it’s polished gold hinges. 

The dining room, while normally grandiose in decor, was somehow even more striking, with rare statues and paintings lining the walls. On the far side sat a long table. Anne spotted her seat immediately. It was at the center, raised above the others. A seat fit for a princess. 

She practically hopped into her seat, and stared intently at the drink in front of her. If she had to describe how it looked in one word, she would say powerful. It someone radiated power. It was like it was saying, “Hey! Look at me! I’m important!”

She felt a hand slide into hers. She looked up to see her mother, Adela, sitting beside her. “You’ve got this. Now drink.” she urged. Mother always knew what to say to make her feel better. Anne didn’t know what she would do without Mom. She locked eyes with Mom one last time, and drank. 

The world began to flicker before her eyes. She could feel her heart pulsing through her body. With the last vestiges of her rational thinking, she remembered her mother’s instructions. “You must feel for it.”

“But Mom! how will I know what I’m feeling for?” She had questioned.

“You will be able to tell when the time comes.” She had refused to explain further. Anne closed her eyes, and reached. Looking back, that was the only word she could think of to explain what she had done. 

The first thing she found felt cold, like plunging headfirst into a snow mound. Not it. She reached again. This one felt warm, a dull ache of power flowing through it. Maybe... 

No. She reached again and again, to no avail. Anne began to grow aggravated. “COME ON!! WHERE ARE YOU!!!``she screamed.

She growled, and reach again. This... this one felt like power. Like pure unadulterated rage, capable of toppling mountains. She wanted to be repulsed by it, to throw it away.

But... It felt right . The power flowed through her bones, filling her to the brim. It clicked, like the missing part of her she never knew she needed. She opened her eyes.

Anne was back in the dining room, looking exactly as it had before. Even now, she could feel the bent, *her* bent, buzzing below her skin. Ready to erupt at a moments notice. Speaking of that...

Her bent was rapidly growing in intensity, making her hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Her vision went red. “Annebeth?” Her mother asked frantically. Anne couldn’t see her with the red cloud covering her vision. 

No. NO. As her panic grew, so did her bent. It built up, and up, and up, until...

She exploded. Fire and brimstone rained free. Anne felt a rush of adrenaline go through her. This. This felt good. Her vision cleared, to reveal...

Devastation. Pure and simple. Where there once was priceless relics, only rubble lined the hall. The paintings were ash. She froze. Wait. Mom! Frantically, Anne scanned the room. She screamed, a guttural sound that echoed through the now barren halls. “MOTHER!!!!”

She laid limp against the floor, cold and unmoving. Anne ran towards her. “Please-be-okay-Please-be-okay,” She chanted under her breath, her words slurring together. 

Anne had never been a religious person, but now- now she prayed to any god who would listen. After a few minutes of sitting there in desperation, it appeared to have paid off. Mom opened her eyes. “Anne? What happened?`` she questioned. Anne launched into telling her mother what had occurred, leaving nothing out. By the end, Mother’s eyes looked glued open from shock. 

“You must tell no one of this,” Mother said, her firm tone was at odds with her vulnerable appearance. 

“Why?”, Anne inquired.

“That bent you have... it’s forbidden.”

“Forbidden?”

“By the Kings. Having a bent with destructive capabilities is a death sentence.” The Kings! Every knew them, the three solitary rulers of the land of Porthor. Her land. Their word was law. If they wanted someone dead, they might as well do it themselves. At least that way, they go quickly. That could be her. She realized, feeling her breath falter. 

“But what do I say my bent is?”

“You will say you’re bentless.”

“Bentless?!?!”

“Do you want to die?” 

“No,” I murmured.

“Oh, Anne...” She said with a sigh.“You know I love you, right?” She didn’t give Anne time to respond before startling the words out of her mind. Mother reached for her necklace. It was a heart-shaped pendant about the size of Mom’s fist, encrusted with rubies and lined with silver. Anne had never seen her take it off. Until now.

With a clink, Mother detached her necklace, and shoved it in the palm of Anne’s hand. “Mom! I can’t take this!”, She protested shrilly.

“You can, and you will.”

“Mom...”

“When you are in your most dire moment, open the locket. It will show you the way-” She retched. Anne could barely stop herself from losing her lunch. “I do not have much time left.” No. No. NO. This was not happening.

“We can get you to a healer. It’s not over!” Anne said frantically.

Mother bared her teeth. “I’m a healer. I know these things. Besides, I’d have to explain where my injuries came from. So... this is the end for me.” she ended with a wry smile that felt both right and horribly wrong. Her smile was still is place when, 15 minutes later, her heart stopped. Anne smiled thinly, put on her mother’s necklace, and walked away.


	2. The pen Is Mightier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne always wanted to be a servant (not).

Of course, that wasn’t what she wanted to do. Anne wanted to scream. Shake her. Cry. Do a million things. Anything but stop, and think about what just happened. Dead. Mom was dead. Never again would her laugh ring through the halls( not that the halls still existed) of her home. Never again would she smirk before giving her embarrassing lectures about consent every time she played with a boy( she was ten years old, dang it).

Time started to blur together, hours turned to days turning into weeks turned into months. At first, everyone was paying attention to her. She was the only surviving member of the Windwood family, after all. And then, she said the magic word. Bentless. Suddenly, she wasn’t important anymore. How could a bentless child be anything other than a street urchin, someone fit only to clean their boots?

It irked her, in a way it never had before. Perhaps, she mused, it was because she never had a reason to. Now, she was seeing it through their eyes. And it wasn’t pretty. “Servant!!!” Anne shrieked as they handed her new clothes ( Rags. She thought to herself). They can’t do this. They can’t.

They can. Anne stared at the piece of paper they gave to her before unceremoniously shoving her on the streets. 

“ Dear Bentless Person,

As a new member of the bentless community, you have several rules you must follow.

You have no surname. Any use of a formal surname will be considered willful deception and is punishable by death.

You will be assigned to serve a noble family. You must obey their instructions, no exceptions. Punishment for breaking this rule may vary, though flogging is the generally accepted method.

You may not accept money for your services. You will be paid in food and shelter.

...” 

The rules continued like that for a few pages. Anne stopped reading. The last page had only one sentence, written in plain script.

“As of 467 A.B, Annebeth is property of the Long family, residing at the Hart Manor.” 

One word of it stuck out to her. Property. Like she was some object, to be used and discarded. She contemplated not going for a few seconds, before quickly discarding the idea. Where else would she go? 

Anne knew the way to Hart Manor, having gone to some parties there a few years back. A few years back, that house was the place to be. Rowdy crowds filled the halls as entertainers from all over the world showed off their talents. If something was in style, you could be assured that the party would be littered with it. The Long family was small, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Long and their only son. The son( whose name escaped her. Collin? Conner?) was only a couple years younger than her. 

A few years back, the parties just… stopped. The Longs removed themselves from the public eye. Sighting of them were few and far between. Even then, it was only the husband. Mrs. Long and her son were nowhere to be seen. Despite herself, Anne felt rather exhilarated by the thought of being one of the few to see the Long family after all time. She had been only six when it happened. Maybe she would get to see the son! Concentrating, she could imagine a blurry outline of how he used to look. She thinks he had blue eyes and brown hair. Or was it brown eyes and blond hair? She didn’t know. 

Anne shook her head, and looked up for the first time in several minutes. In that time, she seemed to have made her way to the manor’s front door. She took a deep breath, and knocked.

~

“Who is it.” A gruff voice said flatly. “My name is Anne. I was assigned here-”

“Come in.” He interrupted bluntly. Anne scrambled inside. She found herself in a large entrance hall that rivaled that of her home’s. Here’s hoping I don’t blow this one up too, she thought bitterly. She shook her head. Where had that come from? She looked at the man who had let her in. He looked like he would have been handsome, once upon a time. He dazzling hair, an impeccable face, and yet… 

He had an aura of dullness, like a faded garment that had been worn too many times. He seemed both familiar and not, a ghost of a man. The man interrupted her musings. “ I am Mr. Long. Pick any unlocked door on the second door for your room. We will discuss later tomorrow. Dismissed.” Anne made a beeline for the staircase. Wait, unlocked doors? What was behind the locked ones. “That’s none of your business.” Mr Long called up, frowning. Oh. She must have spoken out loud. 

When she got the second floor, she found a long hall, lined with doors. After some exploration, she discovered two things. Firstly, all of the unlocked rooms looked the same. A simple arrangement with a bed, a drawer, and a small closet. Secondly, and much more interestingly, there were only three that were locked. One door looked just like the rest, fine wood without even a scratch on the white paint. A second had a faded square in the middle, like something used to be hung up there, but was taken down.

The third, most ominously, had but a single scratch across it. It cut deep into the wood. If Anne had to guess, she would say it was made by a blade. She shivered involuntarily. 

She picked one of the rooms at random, locking it tightly behind her. She made a warding gesture with her hand, as if to scare away whatever made that mark. One thing was for certain. Whoever( or whatever) had made that marking was not someone she ever wanted to meet. She felt her bent bubble up inside of her, before squashing it back down again. 

Blades were almost impossible to find outside of the High King’s inner circle. You had to get a permit to use one, and very little was considered a good reason to have one. Certainly, anyone with one would know how to use it. Which means… that must be there for a reason. And not a good one, either.

~

The next day, Anne woke up bright and early. After a few minutes of contemplation and eye adjustment (She hadn’t accounted for the window in her new room) , she headed downstairs. Mr. Long was there waiting for her.

“Which room did you pick?” He asked, looking very much the picture of disinterest. 

“Room 212, sir” I answered stiffly. He grunted. Anne tried and fail to reconcile this man with her memories of him. He was a lively man, bold and overeager in his attempts to impress the other nobility. What possibly could have happened to cause such a drastic change?

“Food will be dropped off at your room every evening. You take what you get.” He fixed his gaze upon hers. “ You will be training to help my son, Cosmo.”

Cosmo. So that was his name. “To help him with what, sir?”

“He has been hired to find and apprehend a local nuisance” He seem to put a particular emphasis on that word, as if he wasn’t sure if he believed it. “by the city guard. He will need someone to guide him. To ground him, if you will. He is a spirited boy, but he can’t do it alone.” 

“What kind of nuisance?” She asked hesitantly. Mr. Long gave her a scathing look. 

“The deadly kind.” Anne gulped. She said the first thing she thought of to stop talking about this.

“What type of training?”

“Cosmo knows how to fight. I need someone who can think.”

“Then why not hire someone?”

“Can’t” You would think a man of his (former) standing could speak in full sentences, but here we are.

“ Why ever not?”

“None of your business.” He seemed to like like that phrase, she noted.

“ Go to the third floor, second door to the right. Training starts there.” How many floors does this place have? Anne could have sworn that there were only two. 

“There’s a staircase on the far side of the second floor.” Mr. Long interjected, as if he knew what she was thinking. 

“Thank you.” She walked up. Sure enough, the staircase was there, sandwiched between two rooms. Anne must have missed it the first time around. 

The third floor seemed much like the second, abet with larger spaces between the doors. She quickly found the room she needed, and headed in.

The room was empty, except for a long table. Almost the entirety of its surface was covered with neatly stacked piles of paper. A small space in the corner was cleared, with a ragged chair in front of it and a quill beside it.

With a sigh, she sat down, and reach for a piece of paper. It was titled ‘Tactics: An introduction’.

Digging through, she found that most were similarly titled. Some had problems to solve (she assumed that that was why the quill was there), while others just just had information.

As she studied, time seemed to blur together. Before she knew it, it was evening. She headed back for the night, where almost cold food awaited her.

Soon, a routine emerged. Wake up. Eat breakfast. Work. Eat dinner. Sleep. Repeat. She never seemed to run out of paper, each finished sheet replaced by five more the next day. Anne never saw Mr. Long again. It was easy to get lost in repetition. She wasn’t sure if she liked it.

It was several months before she saw him again. Her eleventh birthday had come and gone. That morning, she received a note summoning her downstairs with her breakfast.

“You asked for me, sir?”

“You ship out tomorrow.” Ship out? Where would she- oh. Anne had forgotten why she was training in the first place. It didn’t help that she never saw Cosmo. That night, she slept so soundly that she almost didn’t hear Mr. Long scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I despise this chapter. Stick around till next week for some actually good writing lol.


	3. Riches to Rags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished chapter 7!  
> Here’s chapter 3.  
> Enjoy!

Anne rushed to the source of the noise, finding one of the locked doors. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get it open. She looked at the door. Where once there was pristine paint, there now was a scratch identical to the other door. Anne was on the streets before she became aware again. She ran, and ran, until she had to stop for breath. Five seconds later, she started back again.  
Looking up, She realized that she didn’t recognize where she was anymore. She was lost.  
The neighborhood Anne found herself in was not a good one. The building were derept and decayed, with who-knows-what going on in the dark alleys that were more common than any alley should be. It was like they had been designed with the sole purpose of enabling criminals. She felt a yawn fight it’s way out of her mouth. She was more tired than she thought.  
She settled down next to the wall. She would just close her eyes, and move on. Just that….  
Anne woke up to the sound of fists hitting flesh, dull thuds resonating in her skull like someone banging a gong. She opened her eyes warily. What was going on?  
The best way she could think of to describe what she saw was gang fight. Two ragged groups of boys and girls duking it out- and she was smack dab in the middle of it. Shoot.   
She didn’t dare move, for fear of getting hit. Getting hit more, that is. She lost count of how many elbows and fists connected with her face. As the minutes ticked by, she started to wonder how long she was going to be there. Just as she gave up on getting out, she felt a tug on her arm. “Psst! Over here!” A boy’s voice whispered. She happily obliged. “Thank you, Mr….”   
The boy looked at her, his green eyes sparkling amusedly. “Jax. I suppose you aren’t from around here.”  
“Yes?” I answered, my response coming out more like a question.  
“ No local would be stupid enough to fall asleep in that alley. The Dragon gang has been fighting the Cupid gang for possession of it for months now.”  
“Oh.” Well, she felt like an idiot.  
“Tell me, how did you end up here, in our fine slump?”  
“What’s it to you?” Anne said brazenly.   
“No one comes here unless it’s their last option. So, what’s your story?”  
“What’s yours?”   
“ Me? I was born here. Nowadays, I run the Cricket gang. We may not be the mightiest of groups, but we put food on the table. Now, stop evading.”  
“My name is Annebeth Windwood, and I’m alone.” Anne told him everything that had happened, carefully evading the matter of her bent or the necklace she wore.”  
“Huh.” Jax said, grunting. “ You’ve got a lot of nerve, keeping your surname like that. I like it. Come with me.”  
I followed him through the maze of streets as he pointed out places we passed by. He said things like, “That bakery leaves its leftover loaves on the street.” or “My buddy Phil had his last stand right there. A real good guy, he was.” Disturbingly, what he said tended to be from the same vein as the latter. She tried not to think about it too much.  
After a few minutes, they arrived at their destination. Someone had dug an alcove underneath one of the buildings. The small space was filled to the brim with children. The oldest looked to be around her age, while the youngest seemed around five. Their world-weary faces provided a sharp contrast to Jax’s lively aura. She blinked. “H-h-hi?” She greeted.  
You could have heard a quill drop. Finally, someone spoke up. “Another stray? Really?”   
Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, everyone started talking. The noise grew louder and louder until…  
“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Jax yelled, His voice cutting through the others. He waited for the murmurs to stop before continuing. “This is Princess. She’ll be joining the gang.”  
“Princess?!?” Anne squacked indignantly. Of all the things to call her, he choose Princess !  
“Yeah. You went from riches to rags. Would you rather Snowflake?” He wiggled his eyebrows.  
“No, Princess is good.”  
“That’s what I thought.” He looked smug. “It’s time you learned how things work around here.” And learn she did.  
The town was called Shallar; a pretty name for a not so pretty place. Because of the lack of nobles, it had been overrun by gangs for years. The children and adults rarely interact. Most gangs were deadlocked in a never ending battle for territory. The Cricket gang, however, had a different tactic. They make their own. Jax seemed rather proud of himself for coming up with it.   
They called their home the Cricket Haunt. It actually expanded far beyond where they had entered. A surly looking eight-year old was assigned to give her a tour. She could barely fit through the tight tunnels they had carved out. There were several dozen rooms of varying sizes, from a med bay that could hold fifteen to quarters that could hold five. Other than the medbay, most all were empty. They had all gathered in the front to greet Jax, her guide informed her. He usually brings home supplies.   
Oh. That would explain why they were so unhappy with her. Which would you rather: Food, or a useless girl? Besides, it wasn’t like they could get rid of her. Jax and his gang took in everyone who didn’t fit in with the others.  
Anne didn’t know whether she was grateful for his policies, or offended by being branded a misfit. Well, a voice whispered in the back of her head, he’s not wrong. She gritted her teeth.  
She was shown a room to sleep in, with five others. Something about it irritated her guide. He murmured under his breath about favoritism. She frowned, confused. All of the rooms were the same. Right?  
That night, she figured out why. “Hey, Princess! You’re dorming with me.” Jax called, leaning against the entrance.   
“What? Don’t you have your own room?”  
“Nope.” He said, popping the p. “I’m a member of this gang, just like anyone else. It creates a sense of unity. We sleep together, eat together, and steal together.”   
“I don’t know- wait, steal?” Jax smirked. She wanted to go straight over there and smack that grin right off his face. “How else would you have us survive?”  
“Get a job.” She retorted.  
“Who would hire us? Also, not enough to support us. Next?” She scrambled, trying to find something to say.  
“ Dig through trash? Beg for it?”  
“ We do that. Not enough. Next?” She blanked. She couldn’t think of anything . And by the look on his face, Jax knew it too. “Fine. But you guys don’t just steal from anyone, right?” All humor, had vanished from his face, making him seem rather cold.  
“If we can. That’s not always an option, though.”  
“Oh.” She gulped. “ I see.”  
“Good.” With that, they both laid down on their hay bales(Anne refused to call them beds), and went to sleep. Well, Jax did. The scratchiness of the hay kept her up long after Jax and her other four roommates ( who seemed to have entered without her noticing) fell asleep. Eventually, her exhaustion overcame her discomfort. She fell into a restless sleep, Mr. Long’s screams still reverberating through her skull.  
The next day, it was time for her first raid. “But… I got here yesterday!”, She protested weakly.  
“There’s no time like the present!” Jax responded cheekly.   
“I don’t know how to do it?”  
“You can learn on the job.” She could swear that there was something sadistic in his expression. “It’ll be fun!” Yep. Sadism.  
They formed a group of five. Jax (of course) was leading. He did all solo runs, too.That must have been what he was doing yesterday.  
Their target took about thirty minutes to get to, using a slow jog. After ten, they had left the slum far behind.  
It was a high-end restaurant, the type that Anne would have been to with her mom. She clutched her necklace involuntarily. After all this time, she had managed to keep it hidden. Jax signaled them, and they creeped in.   
Anne could see what they were after the moment they went in. An all-you-can-eat buffet. “Blend in.” Jax whispered, mainly for my benefit. We slowly walk towards it. Jax walked with an air of confidence, like he was saying, “ I belong here. I am doing nothing wrong, so I have nothing to fear.”  
SHe did her best to mimic him. She wasn’t sure how well she did. She carefully piled food on her plate, trying not to attract attention. As she walked away, it felt as if everyone’s eyes were on her. They would smile at her, sometimes trying to make small talk. Only her years of experience with dealing with nobles kept her from breaking down.  
As they slipped out, she felt torn between sighing with relief and screaming joyously. In the end, she chose neither. They weren’t done yet.  
Unfortunately, they couldn’t run, lest they drop their plates. When they got back, the food was distributed throughout the group. One pork bite would be shared by six. “How do you live like this?” Anne asked, incredulous.  
“We don’t. We usually bring in about ten times this amount.” Jax responded.  
“Why not today?”  
“ I didn’t want to crowd you with too many people.After all, it was your first day.” A wave of guilt crashed over me. They were eating less because of me! “Don’t worry, Princess. We can handle it.” Jax reassured, as if he had sensed my distress. Somehow, it didn’t have the desired effect. Maybe they could manage. But was a little discomfort on her part worth their suffering? She thought not.  
Soon, Anne was participating in all sorts of raids. Butchers, Bakeries, and markets alike were targeted. They would spit up into groups, each taking all they could before slipping away. She had long since left behind any feelings of guilt she once had. She became skilled in sleight of hand. She had her ‘clueless rich girl’ routine down cold. And to think that she used to be like that! Her laugh was full of bitterness.   
Despite staying in the same room, she didn’t see Jax much anymore. He was out constantly, coming back long after she had fallen asleep. When she actually could get a hold on him, he said he was busy raiding. Yeah, and she was a chicken. He came back empty handed. Every. Single. Time. She had seen him in action. There was no way he had failed so miserably. Besides, they didn’t need extra raids. They had been getting along well for weeks, since that shop that left their doors unlocked at night.  
It wasn’t like she could take direct action against him. He was their leader, after all. Maybe… an intervention was needed. She started planning right away.  
“We need to talk.” Anne stated bluntly, barroling her way towards Jax.  
“When, and what about?” he asked, grinning lazily.  
“Now. Follow me.” she practically dragged him into the tunnels. She headed for the back, where no one would be coming for a while.  
“So… why exactly have you dragged me here? Is there something you want to tell me?” He almost sounded carefree, crouching downwards. Almost.  
“Quite the opposite, actually. You are going to tell me what you’re really doing on your raids.” It was like a veil had been lifted. He became rigid, his face suddenly devoid of humor.  
“And why should I do that?”  
“Because if you don’t, I will tell the entire gang about how you’re skipping out on your duties.”  
“All right, all right, I suppose you’ve earned this.” he smiled grimly. “What I’m about to tell you goes nowhere. If a single soul hears about this…” He let the threat hang.  
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He eased up, like he had finally figured something out. “How about a compromise?”  
“That depends.”  
“You learn to fight, and I tell you what I’m doing.” She blinked once, twice.  
“I don’t get you.”  
“The feeling’s mutual.” Anne held out her hand. Jax laughed. “Is this your way of saying yes?”  
“Let’s go with that.” He grabbed her hand, and lifted himself up.   
“Thanks. We’ll start tomorrow.” As she went to bed, she wondered what she had gotten herself into.


	4. The calm before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Montage time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is it that this is the longest chapter I’ve written when none of it was in the outline?

She couldn’t contain her anticipation- to the point where people noticed. “What was that? That was a rookie mistake. You haven’t been this bad since you first came here!” Rhya scolded. More often than not, Rhya accompanied her on raids. They had each other’s backs, and they definitely knew when the other wasn’t acting normally. She was one of Anne’s only friends, with Jax having been conspicuously absent.   
“I know, I know. I’m having an off day.”  
“I’ve seen you on an off day, sister. This ain’t it.”  
“Just- give me a day, all right?”  
“It better not last more than a day, then! Get your act together Windwood. Get! It! Together!” After the raid was over, she went to meet up with Jax. Then she realized. Jax hadn’t told her where to go! Or even a time, now that she thought about it. She groaned loudly, and plopped on her bed. What was she going to do?  
The answer presented itself twenty minutes later in the form of Jax, standing outside their room. “Are you ready?”  
“No,” I said into the bale. “But I’m coming anyway.”  
“That’s a good attitude to have.” He gestured for her to come forward. She followed tentatively. The path they took was not one she recognized. The twists and turns seemed designed to make one lost. It probably was.   
When they reached the end, they found themselves in a warehouse. When they had reached the surface, Anne wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know, either.   
At first glance, the warehouse looked abandoned. However, little hints clued her in. No spiderwebs. No layers of dust. The rust has been strategically placed to seem natural. Maybe to someone who hadn’t been trained in tactics for a year, it would be almost impossible to tell the difference. But to her? It was obvious. Jax misinterpreted her gaze. “Don’t worry, it’s not really abandoned. It just looks that way.” Anne didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. “So… what are we doing here?”she asked pointedly.  
“ Now, we fight.” He punched her in the face.  
“Ow, what the heck Jax ?!?”  
“The best way to learn is through experience. Now dodge.” Anne barely managed to avoid being hit again. She felt something bubble up inside, something long forgotten. No. Not now. Please. Dang it.   
When she next opened her eyes, the warehouse was- still intact? Somehow? What did they make that out of, anyways? Jax, on the other hand, looked a bit worse for wear. “Wuh- What was that?” He asked, looking flabbergasted. It was a good look on him, if she did say so herself. She shook her head. Where had that come from? Sighing, she told Jax what had truly gone done on her birthday so long ago.   
It was a few seconds before Jax blinked again. Whether that was because of shock or debris, she couldn’t tell. When he spoke again, his voice had a strangled undertone to it. “Well… It looks like I’ll have to change up the schedule a bit.”   
He signaled me to follow him. As we walked back into the maze of corridors, he started talking. “I was planning to tell you about this afterwards.”  
“Yeah, well, plans change.” I added bitterly.  
“Absolutely right. I was operating under the assumption that you were bentless. But no, you’re like me!”  
“Like me?!?”  
“You didn’t think you were the only one with a forbidden bent, did you?” He opened his arms in a grand gesture. “ Welcome to the outlaws. We’re the ones who shouldn’t exist, but we do. In other words- this is the rebellion.”   
“The rebellion! You mean- against the Kings?!?”  
“Who else?” Jax took a bite out of the apple he had procured seemingly out of thin air.  
“How did you-”  
“I can create things. I can also destroy them. I rearrange the atoms in everything to form something new. Translation: I could destroy anything the Kings put together. They don’t like that.” Anne frowned, latching onto the only part of that she understood.  
“But… Why don’t you make food for us?” He held up two fingers.  
“Two reasons: One, it would be hard to explain where I get the food from. Two, I’d have to destroy something to make it. I made this apple out of my pant pockets.”  
“Why did you make that apple?”  
“Plot convenience.”  
“What does that mean!?!”  
“Don’t worry about it.” Anne groaned. This isn’t a book. It’s real life! Honestly, how idiotic can you be?  
“So, you need bent training.” Jax changed the subject. “ I can’t train your body if you explode when stressed.”  
“I suppose that that would be a small problem.” I responded sarcastically.  
“Yeah, exactly! We just need to find someone to help you.”  
“ And who might that be?”  
“ Ben. He’s the only one we have with an explosion bent. It’s a recessive gene.”   
“Excuse me? I thought it was just luck?”  
“Bents and genetics are irrevocably linked. It’s not just the likelihood of having one- it’s what you get, too. You said your mom was a healer. What was your dad?” My dad? I-  
“ I never met him. He died before I was born.” Jax stroked his imaginary beard.  
“Interesting. Anyways, we’ve arrived.” We had stopped at what looked like a hut, its outside covered in green fuzz. “What is-”  
“ Ben made this by hand. The moisture helps him to stop himself from exploding.”  
“He needs that?” Jax knocked on the wooden door, seemingly the only part not made of mud.   
“No, but it sure makes it easier.” The door swung open. The man-Ben- looked to be in his mid twenties. Looking inside, everything he owned was junk. It was like he couldn’t afford to keep anything more. Or maybe he just knew he would end up exploding them.  
“Jax. What is it this time.” His tone was flat.  
Ben, meet Anne, She has an explosion bent.” Jax put careful emphasis on his words. Ben’s eyes widened. He looked her over, once, twice.   
“You better come inside.” Ben pulled up two chairs from the back. “You’ll forgive me for the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.” Mess? Oh. A burn mark was on ceiling. It looked fresh. Anne thought that he was supposed to be able to control his bent!  
Ben smiled grimly, and Anne realized she’d spoken out loud.“There’s no way to control it, not truly. You can only contain it until you’re ready to let it out.” But… Anne had made it dissipate, back at Hart Manor. This didn’t make sense.  
“But, isn’t that in itself controlling it?”  
“If you can’t do it on command, you can’t control it. Think of it this way. Most bents are like stray dogs. They start out unpredictably, but a little training can make them behave. You can make it do what you wish. Now, our bent is a feral dog. No matter what you try, they will continue to bite. The only way to stop it is to tie it down. You have a rope at your disposal. I’m the one to teach you some knots.” His eyes watched her throughout his lengthy metaphor. “Would your full name, perhaps, be Annebeth Windwood?” She froze.   
“How did you-”  
“Did Adela never tell you about what happened to your father?” Anne felt like a goldfish, her mouth opening and closing.  
“Dang.” Jax exclaimed, looking a second away from laughter. “This is better than one of those propaganda dramas!” He clapped his hands together. “Do continue.”  
Ben looked startled, as if he had forgotten about him. If she was being honest, she had too. “How about you get out of my house.” Ben countered. Jax held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I will step outside.” Ben looked at her.  
“I’ll be you everything I have that he’s standing right outside, listening in.”  
“No bet. I’m no idiot.” They smiled in unison.   
“Now, I want to know about you. How have you been?” Her father( and wasn’t that strange-having a father) seemed like someone who used to be a happy man, before they became so tired. She was reminded of Mr. Long. Father seemed to have retain more cheerfulness than him, though.  
Anne held nothing back in her tale. When she mentioned the necklace, he seemed to perk up. “May I see it?” Anne took it out, letting it see fresh air for the first time in almost two years. Wow, had really been so long?   
The necklace was as beautiful as ever. Ben looked as if he wanted to grab it right out of her hands. “I gave that to your mother, years ago.” he said mournfully. “ I wanted her to look at it, and know my heart was hers.”  
“Ew. I did not need to know that.” She held the necklace away from her, as if to get rid of the sappiness suddenly infecting it. Ben laughed.   
Their conversation was interrupted by a sharp knock. Jax. Father went to open the door. “Hey.” Jax said. “I hate to cut the love-fest short, but we need to go back.” Oh! They had lost track of time. “We can come back tomorrow night.” She nodded, and said her goodbyes. Even as they walked back, she found herself eagerly anticipating their next meeting.  
Soon, It was time to learn control. “You must reach deep inside of you.” Father implored. “Find your bent. Find it’s core, where it resides.” That was easy enough. “You must overpower it, using strength of will alone.” That, not so much.   
“And how, exactly, am I to do that?”  
“You will know.” How very helpful of him. Anne spent hours concentrating, trying to ‘gather her will’. Nothing. She went back to the cave exhausted and disappointed. She tried day after day, to no avail. Father wasn’t helpful either, with his useless tips. Yes, she was focusing. Yes, she really wanted it. Numerous explosions peppered the hut. It wasn’t like the moss was helpful, anyway. ‘The moisture makes it easier’, her foot.  
One day, she’d had enough. “You know what. I’m going to do this my way.”  
“Anne-” Father warned. It was too late. She had already delved into her mind. She found her bent, crackling madly. She couldn’t fight it. Maybe… She could work with it. She felt herself merge with her bent. She hadn;t felt like this since- since her birthday. The bent fizzled, and died down. Dang it.  
Wait. This was what she wanted! Her ben had back off- and it was back. Come on! Then, she realized. Her bent fluctuates with her mood. Of course! How had she not figured this out sooner? She took a deep breath, and her bent became calm. She thought about how long it took to finally be able to do this, and she was ready to explode. She smiled. Perfect.  
“I’ve got this.” Father seemed apprehensive.   
“What did you do?” he scolded.  
“I can control it!”  
“That’s good.” he said, his tone calculating. She didn’t care.  
“I’m gonna go tell Jax!” She was oblivious to his searching eyes.  
“You… do that.”  
“I’m planning on it.” She rushed outside, practically tackling Jax.   
“JAX!! Guess what! Guess what!” He groaned.   
“ Uh… It’s your birthday?”  
“Nope!”  
“You did it?”  
“Yep!”  
“Okay. Can I get up now?” She stood up. Jax took a deep breath. “Finally, I can breath again!” he exclaimed. She tapped her foot.  
“Annnd congratulations!! Good job Princess!” He said hurriedly.  
“Better.” She responded, snorting.  
“Give me a high five.” Jax said, grinning. She did. That high five felt like victory. “Sounds like you’re ready to move on.”  
“Good- wait, will I see him again?”  
“Of course.” he said, patting her shoulder. “ We wouldn’t want to separate family, would we?”  
“Of course not.” They walked back, hand in hand.  
~  
The next day, they went back to the warehouse. “ It’s time to pick up where we left off.” Jax said, a sadistic gleam in his eyes. His fist barreled towards her. Anne’s foreknowledge didn’t stop her from freezing. Again.   
“Come on.” he urged. “You can do this.” Anne dragged herself out of the way of his next punch. “If I can use my bent-” Jax’s fist grazed her face “-then why do I need this?” Jax bared his teeth.  
“ If you rely on your bent, then people will find out.” he responded easily. “Not an ideal scenario.” She huffed.  
“Fair.” They fell back into an uneasy silence. Eventually, Jax stepped back. “Okay, we can stop now. Time for the real training.”  
“The real training?” she squacked. “ Then was was this?”  
“ A test. I wanted to see how you fought. It looks like we’ve got a long way to go.” he said, smirking. “First, your stance.” She smiled. This wouldn’t be that bad after all!  
It was worse. So much worse. “Move it, princess! In a real battle, you would have been hit ten times by now.” At least someone was enjoying this.   
“Ughhh. Just let me die already.”   
“No can do!” he chirped. He chirped. Forget anything she had said about him before- Jax was the devil.  
Anne was exhausted. It was all she could do to stay awake during raids. Rhya’s rants occurred more and more often, to the point that they started to become more like interventions. “You know what, you need to sit this one out.” Rhya declared one day. Anne jumped, startled.  
“Wh-wh-What?”   
“This is exactly what I mean. You need sleep, and you need it now. I’m surprised you’ve managed to last this long, honestly.”  
“But- the food-”  
“I’m gonna be frank with you here.” Rhya said. “ Right now, you would be more of a hindrance than a help. You can join us again when you’ve had at least two hours of sleep.”  
“Only two?”  
“ We live in a hole in the ground run by children who somehow manage to avoid starvation. Two hours is more than I usually get in a night.”  
“That’s… Really unhealthy.”   
“ Thanks.” Rhya had to drag her to bed. Anne couldn’t make it all of the way there without collapsing. Huh. Maybe Rhya had a point. She was gone the moment her head hit the hay.   
The next morning, Anne woke up to Jax looming over her. “Welcome to the land of the living, Princess! Or should I call you sleeping beauty?” She made a halfhearted attempt to sit up.  
“Please, no.” she said, groaning. “ How long was I asleep?”  
“14 hours. I couldn’t wake you up until now. I guess you really needed that nap, huh?”  
“Apparently.”  
“Maybe we should start meeting every other night.” He suggested.  
“ Works with me.” she replied, relieved. After that day, she never needed an intervention again.   
More importantly, she was getting better. She was dodging more punches, even getting the chance to throw a few. Jax had even admitted that she was (about) ready! Now, she just needed to pass- “A test?!?”  
“Yep. We need to know if you’re good enough.” Anne carefully noted his use of we, and mentally filed it for later.   
“Don’t you already know if I’m good enough?”  
“We need to know if you’re any good under pressure.”  
“ And I haven’t been under pressure before?”  
“ Not like this.” On that ominous note, they shifted to another topic. The test was scheduled for next week. The sessions leading up to it were brutal. Finally, the day- or should she say night- had arrived. She was so tense in the hours leading up to it, she had almost punched Rhya in the nose.   
By the time they had reached the warehouse, she was buzzing with excitement. “When do we start?”  
“You’ve already passed.” Jax’s smirk had somehow grown even bigger.   
“Excuse me?” She stumbled, dazed.  
“Your test was the sessions leading up to tonight. I told you to treat it like the real thing, didn’t I?”  
“You-” She had to take a deep breath to stop herself from exploding. “ You absolute dick.”  
“At your service, Princess.” Anne growled half-heartedly.  
“So, I don’t need to do anything?”  
“Nope! You’re ready for your first mission.” Her eyes widened.  
“My- my first mission!?”  
“What did you think we were training for? We go out with Ben tomorrow.”


	5. All according to plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one is a bit short, but-  
> Well.  
> You’ll see why.

If she had thought she was apprehensive about being tested, she was a nervous wreck now. Rhya had pulled her aside that morning. “Look,” She began. “I don’t know what’s going on with you. But you are better than this. Whatever happens, you got this, girl. Show them who you are. You are Annebeth Windwood, and you can do it.” She had thanked her profusely, and tried to take the words to heart, to varying degrees of success.  
“What are we doing?” She whispered to Jax as they sneaked out of town.   
“Nothing too complicated. 15 bentless people are being sold” he spat out the word as if it was poison. “To someone else. Our job is to intercept them, and free them from the Kings’ tyranny.”  
“Got it.” They had reached a neighborhood much like Anne’s old one. Ben had stayed strangely silent throughout. They soon arrived at a train car, muffled noise emanating from it. They silently creeped in. It’s occupants looked like- well, they looked like slaves. Ragged outfits. Chains. They looked frightened by our very presence. How barbaric. How utterly barbaric.  
“I couldn’t agree more.” Father said curtly. Oh. She had said that outloud. She really needed to stop doing that. Jax tossed them both a lock pick, and they got to work. Soon, their work was almost complete. Anne could practically taste victory when they heard footsteps, coming from outside.  
“Impossible.” Jax gasped.  
“Not so much.” Ben said, his voice suddenly cold and cruel. “Not when a mole is there.” A grin started to form.  
“You-you-” Jax struggled to find words through his anger. “How could you?” His eyes screamed at me. Run. But I was frozen solid, unable to process the events unfolding.  
“I was like any other bentless person. Weak and forgotten. But then, I get the offer of a lifetime. All I had to do was pretend to have a bent, and join this-” He made finger quotes “Rebellion, and I got my freedom.” Ben’s( if that was even his name) gaze shifted towards me. “As for you- I didn’t have to pretend to be your father. You were just another bentless girl among many. When I found out, all I really had to do was to sabotage your efforts, and find a discreet way to turn you in. You know, it’s pretty mysterious- how you fled, the night Calvin Long died. ”  
“ I- I didn’t do it! You know that!” Ben pressed a finger to his lips.  
“Ah, but they don’t know that. In thirty seconds, this train car will explode with Jax in it- Unless you come quietly.” The man whom she once considered a father smirked. Unlike Jax’s trademark look, his grin held only malice.  
She looked at Jax, frantic. Jax looked pale. He mouthed once more, “Go!” She shook her head.   
“You must. Now!”  
Somehow, those words managed to stun her into action. She fled, running like she never had before. She didn’t look back, even as she heard the train car explode, with Jax in it.   
She stopped to catch her breath, unwilling to even think back to the event of the train car. She had to go back to the gang. She had to- “Annebeth. You are now under the custody of the Kings. Resistance is futile.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something swing towards her head. She saw black. And thus, Anne found herself without a father, friend, or her freedom. It’s amazing what can happen in just one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened.


	6. Cute boys and serial killers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am, in fact, alive.

She woke up to a boy’s face staring down at her. He looked around ten, with wide eyes and a cheerful face. Most people would melt, seeing that smile. She, of course, was immune to that. She definitely didn’t think it was cute. Not at all.  
“Hello!” The boy chirped. “You must be Anne! I’m Cosmo! We’re gonna be working together!” Oh. So this was Cosmo! She had almost forgotten about him! Her surprise was quickly overtaken by irritation at Cosmo’s greeting, his loud voice grating against her skull. Or maybe that was just the relentless throbbing pain she had woken up to.   
“Whoa, are you okay?” He asked, his voice full of concern. He held out his hand. “Here, let me help.” Anne snorted, and hauled herself up. “Thanks, but no thanks. Just tell me what we’re doing here.” They were in a hotel room, with two twin beds. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept on a bed. Though, if where she had gotten up from was any indication, she just had.   
Cosmo pouted, legitimately pouted for a second, before deciding to answer her question. “We’re investigating!”   
“Investigating what?” Cosmo’s face darkened for a split second, before lightening up like nothing had happened. She had a feeling that she wasn’t supposed to see that. His voice dropped to a whisper, even with no one in sight. “Have you ever heard of the Black Mamba?” She gasped. Years ago, everyone and their dog had heard of the Black Mamba. He was a notorious criminal, who operated behind the shadows. He would come out of nowhere. Any noble could be targeted. No one had ever survived an encounter with him. His signature blade would be used to slash the victim's door. He had faded to obscurity in the past few years. Some said he had died. Others said he was still out there, biding his time. He had been reported in the area she used to live in, she remembered. But, what did he have to do with anything?  
“ The Black Mamba has returned. And we are in charge of finding him, and taking him down.” Anne nearly choked on her own spit.   
“But we’re kids!” She managed to choke out. “How are we supposed to take him down?”  
“The Kings have full confidence in us. All we have to do is study the crime scenes, find him, and defeat him!” She felt a burst of rage flare up with the mention of the Kings, before reminding herself where she was. She was stuck here. It wasn’t like she had anywhere to go back to anyways, she thought glumily.  
“That easy, huh?”  
“Yep! Should be a piece of cake. Mmm, cake.” There is no way that anyone could be this cheerful. He’s gotta be faking it at this point.  
“So,” she said loudly. “What’s your bent?”  
“Oh!” he responded, surprised. “Animals do my bidding. Honestly, I just like to talk with them.” Suddenly, Cosmo’s role made sense. No one thinks about the animals. He could find clues from them! Such a skill is very rare, which would probably be the reason for using a young boy instead of an adult. This meant that she was most likely here because of their minimal age gap. They would want him to be comfortable with the people he works with. They really had planned for everything. She gritted her teeth.  
“Where do we start?”  
“Come with me.” They walked down the block, stopping at one of the larger houses. “Last week, the Black Mamba made his most recent attack here.” They walked inside. “The victim was Mrs. Amanda Dules, age 54.” He droned, sounding like he had memorized this long ago, and found it tremendously boring. “She lived alone after her husband broke a sacred law, resulting in his execution. She was found in her bedroom, her body still warm. Chest wounds show that she most likely bled out, after being stabbed in a major artery.” Seeing Cosmo’s face as he listed out brutal facts was the most disturbing thing she had ever witnessed. And that was saying a lot.   
When they reached the room, Anne’s breath hitched. No. It couldn’t be. She recognized that mark. She had seen it every day, at Hart Manor. Not only did the Black Mamba kill Mr. Long, but someone else too. She frantically scanned her brain for clues. Wait. What if- It was Cosmo’s mom?   
As soon as she thought of it, it seemed to click into place, the last part of a sinister puzzle. The Black Mamba had killed both of Cosmo’s parents. Cosmo’s confidence made a strange sort of sense, now. He wouldn’t even consider the possibility of failure. Of not managing to avenge his parents murder. After the shocking revelation with the door, she found little else of interest in the house.  
She didn’t speak again until they had returned to the hotel. “Is there any noticeable pattern to his movements?”  
“None that I’ve found.Why don’t you take a look at it?” Cosmo said cheerfully, shoving a map in her arms. Unraveling it, she scanned the points, looking for some way to group them. They seemed random, bouncing from house to house, or even city to city. The Black Mamba seemed to attack around 5 or six people at any given city before moving on. The victims themselves had little in common, other than their noble status. The youngest was in their early twenties, while the oldest was 83. Female, male, powerful bents, weak bents, one of the King’s friends,a orphan- it didn’t matter. All fell prey to the Mamba. He would sometimes wait months to strike again, and sometimes just weeks. She pondered into the night, to little results.   
The next morning, the Mamba struck again. Brandon Romano, advisor to the second king. Before now, the highest ranking person targeted had been a friend of the third king. He was moving up in the ranks. Not only that, but the body was gone. The only sign that he was there, other than his mark, was a note. It was written with a red substance that Anne refused to think of as blood, drawn shakely upon the floor. It read:   
“I have idled by too long. It is time for drastic measures. You Kings are nothing but fakes. Run, if you wish. It will not save you. BM.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!  
> Next chapter coming soon!


End file.
